His Queen, His Salvation
by PastPresentFiction
Summary: I'd been with Negan since before the pandemic changed the world. I'd lived with and loved him for what seemed like a lifetime. While he had "Wives", I was clearly his Queen. Surprisingly he would have offered me the world, or the moon-even if I found it with his newest, reluctant recruit.
1. Chapter 1

Boredom. That had been my overall feeling for months. More so when Negan would demand my attendance at one of his ritual/ceremonies. Whether he was pseudo-celebrating after a successful raid, a promotion of one of his many "Saviors", or God help my sanity, if it was one of the "weddings" to add to his harem.

Life with Negan had never been simple. We met when I was in his high school gym class. We didn't become intimately acquainted until a few years later, during his wife's illness. It wasn't my proudest moment, to be sure, but I'd been with him ever since the pandemic began. And here, in The Sanctuary, I had the "privilege" of the status of Queen. His Queen, even as he added more "wives" to his harem.

When one of his newest minions, sorry but "Saviors" was too kind of a word, came to request my presence for another mind numbing, excruciating experience of pomp and stupidity I had to fight the urge to roll my damn eyes.

"And what did your supreme overlord ask that I wear for the occasion?" I asked, not looking up from my book and not bothering to mask the irritation I felt at the summons.

The minion, fuck I should tell Negan to make them wear nametags, didn't bother to cover his exasperation at having to play messenger to me. "Something QUEENLY, I guess."

Sarcasm. Nice. Slamming my book down on my bed I was reclining on, I shot a glare at the shithead. "Nice tone, messenger boy. Expect to rise through the ranks here?" He looked at me and I felt such revulsion at his hopeful expression. "I suggest you not piss me off." My glare held. "After all, I am his QUEEN." I hated myself as much as this moron in front of me for doing it. "Leave. Now." I heard, but didn't answer his sycophantic apology.

Fuck, I thought, looking at the closet in my rooms and glaring harder at the expanse of it. Negan and his fucking stupid ceremonial bullshit. If it was his version of a "wedding", I would usually wear one of the MANY expensive dark colored gowns he'd gifted me with over the time we'd spent here. If it was a recruitment ritual, I'd wear a dark, and still expensive suit. Promotions were more casual, and I'd go jeans and a nice blouse.

Damn it, why had he sent a useless idiot to summon me?

Screw it, I thought, grabbing a black silk jumpsuit with a ruby red blouse and flats. No point in pretending height I didn't enjoy naturally. In fact, Negan preferred me emphasising my small stature. Any time I wanted to diffuse his natural dickishness, all I really had to do was look up at him from under my eyelashes flatfooted on the floor.

I left my long hair loose, running a brush through my curls and checked the full length mirror that stood in the corner. A simple gold chain, tight against my throat and a large engagement ring that Negan had given me after his wife passed on my left hand ring finger were the only adornments I wore. I decided against makeup. If his little ritual was going to take place outdoors, it would simply sweat off anyway.

Groaning again at having to play mistress of the manor, I opened the door to find the minion waiting nearby. Since he hadn't fully delivered the message, I would have to depend on the dick to take me to him. Yep, I wouldn't be recommending him to a promoted position any time soon.

"Next time you're sent to summon to the Lord on High, you are expected to give me the FULL message." I said, sneering at his back. "Unless you haven't noticed, I have full reign of the sanctuary. I'm not in a gilded cage and I expect you and all the other little minions in line for favor to get that through your fucking heads. Obedience is one of Negan's rules, correct?"

The minion shrugged his shoulders, refusing to speak to me.

"I hate playing Queen, son, so do me a favor and don't force my hand." I sighed. "Just do what he tells you, to the fucking letter, and you'll do OK. But I swear to fucking God, if you ever act like you just did again, I'll have you punished."

He turned toward me when I said I hated playing Queen. Shock, I guess, played across his face. A slight nod told me he understood. Good, I thought, I didn't need a damn armed guard and I certainly couldn't stand the bowing and scraping. Although this certain belief that I reveled in my station above the others was the absolute worst. I loved the man, not what he had grown here. I loved the safety this life afforded me. Nothing else.

I chuckled when I thought of the last private conversation I had with Negan during one of our intimate nights. He'd been discussing his plans and his expectations for the future, and out of the blue he'd given me the offer he supposed I wanted. Since he had a multitude of "wives", and spent ample time with them, did I want to have the choice of my own version?

"A harem of my own?" I laughed hysterically. "Dear God, Negan, I can barely stand to have you all the time, why the HELL would I want more?"

His eyes, soft when he was alone with me, twinkled with laughter. "Well, darlin', you're my Queen and if you want for ANYTHING I expect you to take it or ask for it."

We'd kissed and made love, something I knew for a fact he didn't engage in with the others. I knew because a few had tried to discuss it with me. Tips or commiseration? I wasn't sure. They'd looked shocked when I told them I didn't understand what they were inferring. Negan and I didn't have the type of "relationship" that they had.

He treated me as an equal. A sounding board for the plans and expectations he had for the future. He had charisma and authority. I had the "book learning" as he called it. In fact, I was constantly reading. The one thing I wanted and expected was my library to grow. Raids kept them coming, books and more books. His soldiers muttered and bitched about how unnecessary it was, but I also helped teach the children of The Sanctuary.

The minion and I continued until we were in what I called "the Throne Room". Great, a REAL ceremony. Must have found a recruit or two on this last raid. Happy with my choice of outfit, I moved past the minion and walked to Negan. The room hushed and I barely looked around. This was my normal, at least now.

"Ah, there's my Queen!" He boasted, pulling me to him, off my feet, and dropping his head to mine. Taking the time to kiss me thoroughly, then set me carefully back on my feet. He pulled back. "Tonight was a good night, love." He turned me to face the room, standing against my back. "I found a worthy soldier to join us, darlin'. Meet, hey redneck, tell the lady your name."

I looked down at the man who was crouched on the floor in front of us. He was a bit dirty, with longish hair that hung in his face, and scruff on his chin. His arms showed muscles that were impressive, if a girl were into that type of thing, but what held my attention was his face. Even through bloodstains and grime, I could see the face of a fallen angel. His blue eyes glaring at me, did nothing to soften my impression and I listened intently to his gruff answer to Negan's request. "Fuck you!" And a spit on the floor at my feet.

I stifled a laugh. Dear God, Negan wanted him for that fire. And I wanted to protect him from what I knew was coming. "Soldiers" or "Saviors" as some were calling themselves, hell Negan probably came up with it had to be broken if they were expected to stay. If not, they'd be tortured and kept as prisoners, used for menial tasks with the intent to further break their will. And if that still didn't work, death.

I looked into those blue eyes glaring so harshly back at me and smiled softly. "Now, we really don't need to be like that, do we?" My voice sounded strangely sweet even to me. "I'm Jessica." I crouched down to him, sidestepping the spit, and looked into his face. "Won't you introduce yourself to me?"

I was speaking to him like the children who had come to live in The Sanctuary. The orphans or even the ones who were old enough to process what they'd seen on the outside. Scared like frightened animals, some lashed out, but I'd always been able to talk them down from it. I fought the urge to brush the hair out of his eyes. Touching him would be a terrible idea when he was wound this tight.

"Daryl Dixon." He grunted, unable to break eye contact with me as I couldn't seem to from him as well.

My smile lit up the room. I could feel everyone else calm down. Even Negan behind me released some of his uptight bullshit. "There, that's better. Welcome, Daryl Dixon, to The Sanctuary."

I stood up and felt Negan press himself against my back. His lips fell to my ear as he brushed my heavy hair out of the way. Dropping a kiss to mask his whisper, he gave a light chuckle. "You WANT him." I gave a hushed gasp, and nearly turned, but his arms were locked around me keeping me in place. "Rethinking my offer, darlin?" I felt the vibration of his laughter against me. Dick, I thought.

"Dixon," He said to the room, and the man who was still forced to kneel before us. "I think I'm going to allow Jessa to help acclimate you to your new reality." The room was tittering at this news. I was NEVER in control of new recruits, I wasn't a Savior, I was the leader's Queen. "Shut the fuck up!" The room quieted again. "Jessa knows how things are run. Dixon will be her servant until he's ready to move up."

I looked down at Daryl who, even with the attention focused on us, was still glaring. Great, he's pissed, irritated, and now thinks he's doomed to be a lady's maid. Fuck, Negan, doom the entire endeavor to failure from the get go. "Now, now, Negan. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." I kept my eyes on Daryl. "Perhaps, Mr. Dixon would like another choice?" The glare held on his face. "The truth is, Mr. Dixon, either I can help you learn how things work here, or-" I stopped and glanced around at my audience. All the wives, the Saviors, and higher la-de-das were in attendance. "Or, you'll be sent to a cell and forced to bend the knee in truth, do you understand." His nod was enough. "Would you care to choose? It's me or the cell."

Daryl looked up into my eyes and I prayed he understood that my way was far kinder and more handleable. He still looked like a trapped animal, but he was also processing the situation far quicker than some of the others had. And none of them had this choice offered to them.

"Fine." He mashed out of his angry mouth. "I guess I'm going with the QUEEN." He sneered. Damn, that fire again. Negan was going to want him more than he'd ever wanted another toy. We'd have to work to channel that effectively in a different direction.

"You heard him," Negan's voice rang. "He's off to take care of MY Queen." The humor in his voice was evident. Although I doubted highly the rest of his followers understood the implication. Instead, they probably thought that Daryl wasn't worthy enough of other means to the top.

I rolled my eyes, knowing fully that everyone's attention was on Negan. Everyone, I realized, but Daryl's. He was watching me carefully. And I smiled down at him. "If you don't mind, Negan, I think Mr. Dixon and I will go get him cleaned up. Could you please send some clean clothes to my rooms?"

"Anything for you, Jessa." His lips on my hair answered. He turned me suddenly and gave me another heart-stopping kiss. "Let me know if you want me to take him off your hands, darlin'." He said against my lips. I shook my head as I pulled away. "Night, Jessa. Dixon, on your feet."

Daryl stood and I moved past him so he could follow.


	2. Chapter 2

I felt Daryl more than heard or saw him. He stayed a slight distance away and walked behind me. I could feel the warmth of him, even inside the warmth of the hallway. His light footsteps told me more about him than his words would. He was clearly used to stalking prey. A hunter then. Another notch in the belt of Negan's longing for him.

I waited until we reached the door of my rooms to turn to face him. "Please know that I mean you no harm, Mr. Dixon." I opened the door and stood back to allow him to walk ahead.

He entered the room and I felt him stiffen. Clearly it was a large bedroom, but it also held a sofa, chairs, a table, even a small kitchen equipped with a mini fridge and small cooktop. My apartment, I insisted on calling it, was also overloaded with books. They were on the table, stacked on the floor, and if he was surprised by this, he'd be shocked in my bathroom.

I watched him take stock of everything, hoping against hope he wouldn't do something stupid like try to harm me or take me hostage. He had a wild element about him, one slightly different than the children I usually dealt with, this man was clearly dangerous. I waited patiently until we heard a knock on the door I was leaning against, and watched him turn incredibly fast to see the threat.

"Whoa, it's OK, Mr. Dixon." I said, opening the door and taking the offered change of clothes with a slight smile at the "wife" who'd delivered them. "It's just your clothes, well the new ones, anyway." I showed them to him- a soft pair of sweats and some socks. "I said we'd get you cleaned up, and we will. If you'd like," I started, walking slowly toward him. "We can even have your clothes laundered, so you'll be more comfortable?"

He stiffened again as I came closer. "Daryl." He ground out, looking at me like I may strike him. I nearly laughed at the thought. Me, barely five foot tall, taking down a man almost a foot taller than me and built like a brick wall. Sure thing.

"Daryl." I said, nodding with a smile. "If you want, I can show you to the bathroom?"

He nodded at me, his hair still hanging in his face. I handed him the clothes I'd asked for and moved past him slowly. Walking to a sliding door built into the wall next to my closet, I slid it open to reveal an equally luxurious bathroom. A huge bathtub dominated the space, but I also had a walk-in shower.

"There are towels in the cabinet between the tub and shower. Soap is in the top right hand drawer of the sink. Shampoo is in the shower. Feel free to take either a bath or shower. Relax, please, Daryl." I said, stepping back so he could enter the room. "You can close the door, and don't feel bad if you knock over a stack of books, it happens to me all the time."

I watched as he took in this room with the same careful scrutiny as the living portion. I knew he'd find nothing that could be easily used to harm himself or me in the room. And as there were no windows, he couldn't escape. He was a hunter though, so I knew he'd at least try to search for something. He slid the door closed behind himself, and I sat down on my bed.

Dear God, I wondered, what had I agreed to?

The water finally cut off about a half an hour later. He was clearly not used to having an ample supply of hot water and the luxury of safety to take advantage of it. I waited for him, having picked up the book I'd tossed aside to rush to Negan's side earlier. Settled against the headboard, with my pillows stacked behind me, I paid little attention to the noises coming from inside the bathroom. Drying, dressing, and then opening the sliding door, I looked up to see him completely clean and standing in the shapeless sweats. He was clutching his dirty clothes in his hand and I smiled.

"Would you like me to put them outside to be laundered?" I asked, looking at his clutch of clothes. "I have some of my own, and if I drop them outside the door in my basket, they'll be done by this time tomorrow."

He nodded, still quiet, and slightly jumpy. I stood up and grabbed the basket I kept my dirty laundry in, holding it out, I let him put his own inside. Smiling gently to show him that I was still not a threat, I walked to the door and opened it. Outside stood one of Negan's men, a nameless grunt, and I glared at him. Clearly Negan didn't trust Daryl to NOT try to harm me, and now I was under guard. Fuck.

I could feel the tension in Daryl as I turned to face him. "Sorry, Negan can be a bit of a worrier." I was smiling still, but I could feel the cracks in my facade dropping. "You won't hurt me, will you, Daryl?"

His eyes were calculating, trying to decide the game, no doubt. Raising an eyebrow, I urged him to just agree with me so the minion would feel at ease. He finally nodded, a small concession, I knew. I gave a nervous smile to the guard and closed the door in his face after handing him the basket.

"Make sure that gets taken care of tonight." I threw at the man as the door was closing. I knew that wasn't his job, to attend my errands, but I couldn't give a shit at the moment. He had a walkie, I was sure, so he wouldn't actually have to leave the hallway.

I turned back to Daryl. And looked around my room trying to decide what to do now. Since this was the first time I was in charge of a recruit, I felt a little baffled. "Have you eaten?" I asked, my eyes landing on my small kitchenette. I carefully moved past him to the mini fridge. "I keep snacks here, so I don't have to mingle much with the rest of Negan's people." I hoped he didn't hear the full revulsion I felt at the people who populated The Sanctuary. Not the ones Negan offered safety to, but to his sycophantic Saviors.

I opened the small door and gave him a list of the offerings. Then noticed the small bowl of fruit I kept filled on top. "Unless," I held up a perfect red apple, "you'd prefer fresh fruit?"

He snorted, and I gave him a confused look. "Look like Eve temptin' Adam." I smiled at his joke. At a time like this, even I felt a small victory. He winced, and cupped a hand over his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" I rushed forward, not careful, but fully worried. "What happened to you before you got here?"

He held still again, as I pulled down the shoulder of his very loose sweatshirt. I grimaced when I saw the bullet wound. "Who did this?" I asked, carefully examining the hole. "Damn it, I'll have his head, whichever idiot did this."

"His head?" Daryl's voice was strained as I gently probed the skin around the rough looking wound. "You really are a Queen, huh?" Another joke. Honestly, he must be feeling delirious.

"Not really into beheading, but I'm feeling pretty pissed that no one told me you'd been hurt." I walked back to the door after shooting him a soft look. "Give me one second to call for the doctor."

I opened the door and felt the urge to hit the moron waiting. I ordered him to send for the doctor and to make sure the man knew it was for a gunshot wound. I didn't want to have to wait more than necessary for Daryl to be taken care of, and if this messenger boy was as substandard as the first the doctor would have to make multiple trips. Waiting while he called in the request, I was silent until I heard the confirmation that Dr. Carlson would be up immediately. Shutting the door again, I looked back at Daryl.

He was still standing in the middle of the room. He wasn't swaying or even showing any evidence of his wound, having pulled up the sweatshirt to cover it again. I would have rolled my eyes at his bravado, but I realized that if I looked into those blue eyes, I could discern his pain.

"Sit, please." I said, moving to the sofa. "Please, Daryl, the doctor will be up in a moment. Make yourself comfortable." I nearly smacked my own head in frustration. Comfortable? Seriously?

He sat, looking like he'd much rather sit on a time bomb. Which he probably would. I waited for the doctor in silence. Daryl was quiet as well, but watching me. It looked like he was trying to decipher my puzzle. Good luck with that, I thought, itching to grab my book. I wasn't great with waiting and NOT doing something to kill the time, no matter how marginal. When the knock came on the door, I rushed to answer it. Unlike the rest of the compound, my door had a lock, and it was a well known fact that NO ONE was to open my door except me, unless I gave verbal consent.

"Doc, thank you for rushing up here." I ushered him into the room and moved back to Daryl. "Apparently one of the moron parade shot this man in the shoulder. Could you-" I motioned for him to check the man sitting in front of me.

The doctor smiled at me reassuringly. "Of course, my dear." He moved carefully toward Daryl, clearly seeing the stress written all over his face. "Now, let me have a look." Daryl, seeing the urge for him to obey in your eyes, pulled down the shoulder of his shirt again. Doc did as I had, pressing the surrounding skin, taking inventory of the ragged hole. He was tsking and I knew that he was as irritated by the unnecessary violence as I was. "This will hurt to clean, but you'll need some antibiotics and pain medication." I saw Daryl tense, but the doctor just kept his probing going. "I'm going to need you to lie down so I can take care of it." Doc glanced at me and I quickly offered my bed.

I rushed to it and pulled off the sheets and blankets, then I carefully covered a section with a towel I grabbed from the bathroom. Daryl watched me the entire time, his face a mask, but the wheels clearly turning in his brain. "I think the doctor wants you prone, Daryl." I pointed to the newly made examination/operation table.

He shook his head and gave a hushed sigh. He lay down on my bed and a flush of warmth of him lying there rushed through me. Jesus, I thought, even maimed this man gave me lusty thoughts. He was still wearing the shirt and I was about to ask him to take it off, for the doctor to take care of him of course, but I saw him shoot me a pleading look.

"Doc, can you work around the shirt?" I asked, knowing somehow that was what Daryl wanted, and needed. Doc agreed, and started working. I focused on Daryl's face, planning on keeping him comfortable regardless of his stubbornness. He grimaced a few times, but for the most part, stayed silent and still. Moments after the doctor had arrived, he was finished, wrapping the shoulder in padded bandages.

He handed me two bottles of pills with instructions on how to take care of the patient. I walked him to the door and heard Daryl shifting to move from the bed. "Daryl, just relax for a minute, please." As I said goodbye to the doctor and thanked him profusely, I turned back to see Daryl lying tensely on my bed. Before I shut the door, I requested that a rollaway bed be brought to my room. Along with linens and a few pillows, I found myself giving careful instructions to the guard and waited again while he relayed them through the walkie.

Closing the door, I turned back to face the room and Daryl. He was still lying on my bed like it was filled with sharp nails and I shook my head. "Not comfortable enough of a mattress?" I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at the quiet man lying before me.

He snorted again. "I think you know why I'm not comfortable." Ah, I thought, he was waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. His eyes were on the ceiling and I considered how to answer him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Daryl. Or force you to 'bend the knee'." I'd moved slowly and carefully toward him. Standing by the bed, I had to fight the urge to brush the hair from his eyes. "Whether you want to believe it or not, I wouldn't allow you to be hurt. You're safe." I knew that to him, it would sound like he was a pet, and sadly in a way he was, but I was being sincere. He wouldn't be harmed. Not while I still had a say in matters.

"Why?" He asked, finally looking back into my face. "Why do you care?"

I sighed, and pulled one of the more comfortable chairs to sit by the bed. Sitting down, I thought about how to explain. "I know that you must think a million horrible things about me. About my place here. About my 'title'." I nearly groaned. "I'm not a QUEEN." I spat the word out. "Just like Negan isn't God. He may be ruthless and a dick, but he's not omnipotent." I could feel Daryl's eyes on my face as I explained. "He won't harm anyone in my presence. The people here, his 'wives', his minions, his followers, they believe that it's because he doesn't want to harm my delicate sensibilities." I rolled my eyes and gave my own disgusted snort. "He won't do it in front of me because I know all his soft spots, all his weaknesses, and where all those skeletons he's hidden are kept. He won't harm you because I wanted you to be safe. He won't harm the others in front of me because I'm dangerous to him. Not because he wants me to be on the throne he built. Fear is what keeps me with him. His fear, not mine."

Daryl's eyebrows were scrunched together in curiosity. "He's afraid of you?" His voice was quiet, but his disbelief was loud and clear. "You're-"

I gave a laugh. "Yeah, I'm tiny." I agreed. "But you don't need physical strength or adeptness with weaponry to take a man down, Daryl. Sometimes you just need the right information." I shrugged. "I've known Negan for a very long time. Since before all the death and destruction. I knew him before, and when you've been there for that long, you KNOW someone. Knowledge is power. And I have that in abundance."

Another knock came and I rushed over to answer it. The bed, small but clean, was brought inside, along with a basket of sheets and blankets with a stack of pillows piled on top. I gestured for them to put it near my own bed. Daryl made to move off my bed as the others left, but I shot that right down. "Nope, don't even think about it." I said, pulling the sheets from the basket. I started making the bed. "You're going to move, only long enough for me to redress the bed you're lying on, then you're sleeping there." He started to speak, but I stopped him. "I insist. This cot will be comfortable enough for me. You've been shot, you need to get Doc's meds in your system, and I won't have you dealing with a restless night because you can't stretch out." I heard him sigh, but he stayed still. The cot was made up in no time and I turned back to my bed.

"Now you can get up for a bit and sit in that chair." I said, motioning toward the soft chair I'd moved to the side of the bed. I grabbed fresh bedding out of a cupboard and quickly remade the much larger bed. Tossing the pillows back on top, I stood back. "Get back in bed, please?" I asked, moving to grab the two bottles Doc had given me. I opened the antibiotics and shook out two. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge I walked back to my bed, noticing he'd arranged the pillows so he could recline slightly. "Here," I said, holding out the bottle and the two pills. As he was about to argue, I shook my head. "I won't force the pain pills on you, but the antibiotics I have to insist." He nodded and took them from me, tossing them into his mouth and taking a drink of the cool water.

"Thank you." He said, gruff still, but appreciatively. "You didn't have to-"

I smiled. "Yes, I did." I sat back in the chair. "Like I said, no one gets hurt during my watch."


	3. Chapter 3

I moved from the chair to the cot, pulling down the blankets before walking to my closet where a chest of drawers was located. I grabbed my pajamas, a concession that Negan made once I told him that the expensive lingerie was a waste of space. I'd kept a few favorites, but told him to hand the rest to his "wives". He hadn't been happy that I'd rather sleep in boxers and a tank or pajamas in general, but he'd give me anything I wanted, and what I wanted was comfort.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," I told Daryl, walking to the bathroom. "Rest, please."

I knew he'd be out of the bed as soon as he heard the shower start, but I wished he wouldn't. It wasn't the invasion of privacy I worried about, knowing he'd be searching my room looking for a weapon or escape options, but his wound. He needed rest and recuperation, not frenzied activity. Stripping off the clothes I'd worn when meeting him, I turned on the shower and fussed until I got the temperature right. Sliding into the steady stream, I considered what to do about Daryl.

He wasn't a pet. He wasn't a Savior, nor would he become one. His will wasn't going to be broken, not by Negan, not by anyone but himself. And I couldn't find that upsetting. So many that came in as unwilling recruits soon became as fawning as the ones that volunteered. Daryl was clearly a cut above, and I loved it. The fact that he wasn't going to bow and scrape to Negan or his rules was refreshing and wonderful to me.

I'd watched Negan evolve from a gym teacher who bullied his students into the athletes he expected them to be, to this version. A man who believed he was a god. That he deserved the mass following he yearned for, and that with me by his side he'd not only achieve it, but surpass it. I'd watched the man I'd found strangely addictive sexually, turn into a man who barely resembled him when outside my rooms. Unless, of course, I looked at him, through him really, in front of the others. Then he'd stop. Just stop.

No one understood the power I held. The power I didn't want to wield with him. There were times I found myself wondering what would have happened if the pandemic hadn't happened. If, after his wife Lucille had died, we'd been able to evolve as a couple normally. Would we still be together in that situation? Would we have fallen in love, real love? Or would we have drifted apart? Me, a constant reminder of the asshole he truly had been to find physical comfort in my arms as she lay dying, becoming repugnant. Would I have finally allowed myself to see him in his entirety? The violence, the narcissism, the hate and bullying that never went away?

I cleaned myself as I considered. Looking back wasn't a luxury that many had, the times being as horrible and uncertain, but I had the time and safety to do it often. The Negan I'd known before the world turned to shit wasn't the same, not really. He'd been tortured by Lucille's illness. The feeling that he was being punished for being unfaithful over the years. That God was taking her away because he didn't deserve her. I'd been there, I'd seen it all. How he'd take me into his arms and cry. Screaming about the unfairness of the world, while continuing to do the very thing that he felt he was being punished for, as though he didn't have a choice.

It was one of the most destructive things I knew about him. That I knew that the bat he stroked so fondly was named for her. That I knew that every time he tried to be righteous, he was lying to everyone, including himself. That I knew that he wasn't God or godlike. That he was flesh and blood male. And every single time I stopped him from acting on those horrible violent urges, he knew that I held that within me, that I could make his entire empire crumble with one statement. He was weak. Brought low by his own insecurities and that in the end, he'd keep me as happy as a lark, so I wouldn't bare it to his minions.

I didn't fear for Daryl's safety. Not while I had this power. Not while Daryl was under my protection from that power. How to explain, though, without giving Daryl the ammo I had in abundance? I couldn't give him the knowledge, because if I did, he'd use it and then my power was gone and both of our safety would be null.

I shut off the water, hoping I'd given him ample time to do his search. He needed that, the power to look and search. He was a hunter, probably a tracker, and he had to find that there was nothing in my rooms. Negan wasn't stupid, he wouldn't give me an easy out. Even if I had the rule of the compound. Even if nowhere was truly out of bounds to me. Even if he fawned over me as the others fawned over him. He would never give me a simple release, not suicide at least. Nothing in my room was heavier than a book, and there were no knives.

Drying and dressing, I made noise to let him know I was finished, so he'd have time to be situated back on my bed. Letting Daryl feel like he held some power, some version of freedom in this was important. It was part of his alpha male DNA. I knew, because in some ways, Negan was the same. Control, real or manufactured, had to be maintained on some level.

I smiled at him, lying on my bed, and another twist of lust hit me. Even covered in the shapeless sweats, even knowing he was heavily bandaged, this man had a potent pull on me. I tossed my dirty laundry in the basket they'd brought the bed linens in and put it in the corner. Sitting on the cot, I waited to see if he had anything to say. When nothing came, I laid down myself. "Could you turn off the lamp?" I asked, since it was sitting on the table next to him.

The room went completely dark and I sighed into my pillow. The bed wasn't uncomfortable, per say, just small and slightly lumpy. I'd had worse. I listened to the sound of him. His breathing, his moving on my bed to get comfortable. I wasn't sure what I wanted. For him to ask me to join him? To hold him? To touch him? All things I wanted, eventually, but I knew he needed time. Tomorrow, I thought, I'd ask him more questions. I'd find out who Daryl Dixon was, and hopefully, make him understand that I truly wasn't a threat.

I never quite understood how I always knew when morning arrived. My rooms had no windows. I didn't have a clock, never really felt the need for one. And yet, inevitably, I'd wake early every day. My internal clock was still fully charged, apparently, and that was a comfort. Unlike the bed I lay on, I thought, with a groan. Thank God I'm small, was the next thought as I sat up. The cot would be a tight fit if Daryl insisted on using it.

"Mornin'." I heard his voice call out. He flicked on the lamp, and the dim light caused me to blink rapidly to let my eyes adjust. "Sorry."

I smiled through the squint I must be giving him. "Not a problem." I stretched and felt my shirt ride up a bit, showing skin. The blankets had been kicked off during the night, as usual. "Good morning." I stood up and walked to my bed. "How are you feeling?"

He rolled his eyes, clearly hating the mothering act, but tough luck. "I'm fine. Been through worse."

I shook my head and reached out, ignoring his body growing ridged and the slight flinch that flickered through him. My fingertips moved the hair gently from his forehead, giving me a full view of those blue eyes that first drew me to him, and then to press the back of my hand against his forehead. Feeling as cool as he could be in the warmth of the room, I smiled down at him. "No fever." I said, feeling triumphant. "Let me grab your next dose of antibiotics." I started to turn, but he stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

"Thank you." His voice was barely louder than a breath. "I don't understand why you done it, but thank you."

I nodded down at him, fighting the urge to sit on the bed and just be with him. He was still so tightly wired, but I couldn't. Not yet, anyway. I pulled gently from his grasp and grabbed him two more pills. I started to grab another bottle of water, but he stopped me by shaking the one I'd given him the night before. I handed him the pills and sat in the chair beside my bed. "Want to tell me what happened to bring you into Negan's sights?"

He grimaced at what appeared to be a horrible memory. Giving me an extremely brief explanation. How Dwight, that asshole, had shot him. How his group in Alexandria had been making things difficult for Negan's plans. How it all went to shit because of Dwight's decision to take him out. And how, he choked, he'd watched a man who was about to become a father was killed because he'd punched Negan.

I found myself fighting the urge to comfort him. Forcing him to speak about it was hard enough. Touching him, even with the attempt to comfort, would be wrong. He was slowly opening up to her, learning to trust her. Pushing him would do no favors for her or him.

"I'm sorry." I said, knowing that it wasn't enough. Knowing that there were no words that would make anything better. "I'm sorry that Negan is what he's become. I'm sorry that you and your people had to be forced to go through what must have been-" I stopped. Shook my head and looked down at my tightly grasped hands. "I'll just stop."

I felt his hand touch my hair, hair I'd piled up on the top of my head before bed. "You got nothin' to apologize for," his voice still quiet. "It's on me."

I jerked my head up to look at him. "On you?" I said, disbelief making you breathless. "Daryl, Negan killed your people because he wanted them to obey his idiotic rules and the world he wants to build in his image." I gave a dark chuckle. "He took you because he knows that without you, even if your people are capable and able, they'll suffer even further. And that fire in your belly?" I asked, locking my gaze on his. "The one that made you punch him, the one that made you spit and say 'fuck you'? That makes him want you in his group more than you'll ever know." I felt my face burn at the knowledge that this man, a man who'd been wounded and brought here for will breaking torture, was more than I'd expected. "Nobility is wonderful, Daryl, but you need to sit it aside, just for now."

His brows were furrowed. He'd clearly never expected this reaction. Obviously people allowed him to take the blame a great deal. "I hit him. I forced his hand. Expected him to kill me." He shook his head in frustration and weariness. "Wanted him to."

"No!" I said, not raising my voice because I was certain that my new guard dog was still in place. "Don't do that, Daryl. God, even in this mess of a world, life is precious." I didn't fight the urge to reach for his hand, and was pleased that he allowed my touch. "Every life. The dead walk and it's against nature, but to allow yourself to be taken before your time? That's just absolute idiocy." He shrugged and you wanted to smack him. "Listen here, Dixon, I forbid you even CONSIDERING such an asinine idea."

Daryl stared back into my eyes. Flashes of a million emotions seemed to cross his face. Conflicted, but still allowing me to hold his hand. He didn't speak, and I only pulled away when I heard a knock on the door. I walked over and unlocked it, opening it a crack. With a sigh, I opened it further.

"Negan." I said, fighting every urge to rail at him in front of my company. "To what do I owe a morning visit?"

Negan stepped inside and looked around. He took in the cot close to the bed and Daryl sitting up on my bed. His grin flashed evil and bright. Ugh, I thought, don't push me. "Mornin', darlin'." Even in his bigheaded way, he knew that I wasn't in the mood for touching. I stood beside him as he considered what he was going to say. "Mornin', Dixon." He said, pretending to tip an invisible hat. Sounding just like he had as a bully of a gym teacher. "Didn't think you'd be sleeping in that bed alone, boy." I shook my head and wanted desperately to crack him on the back of his head. "Pity, she's a fierce one." I rolled my eyes.

"Is there a point to this visit?" I asked, teeth clenched. "You normally keep your visits to a darker part of the day." I said pointedly.

His laugh was as boisterous and irritating as it had been the night before. I hadn't been lying to him when he'd offered me my own harem. Having him full time would be a nightmare. "You wound me, my Queen." His hand touched his chest and I kind of wished I could wound him. "I came to check on you. And Dixon." He waggled his eyebrows at me and I wanted to slap him. Really? I was making progress with the man and Negan's bullshit had to come rolling in.

"We're fine." I answered, trying to tame my temper. I knew how to handle Negan, I always had. Anger wouldn't make me able to perform as I normally would. "Although," I stepped closer to him and put my own hand over his. Looking up at him from my far slighter height, I whispered loud enough for Daryl to hear. "If you want your Queen to be happy, then advise your men and women to keep their hands and weapons to themselves. Especially-" I stopped and turned my gaze to Daryl's, "where he's concerned." I looked back up at Negan and saw his smile turn from the mocking one to a soft and real one. "And keep Dwight away from the both of us for the foreseeable future."

"Of course," his voice was quiet now, and leaning in, I allowed his lips to touch mine. "Anything for my Queen."

He didn't stay much longer. He refused my request for the guard to be removed, reminding me that Daryl was still a flight risk. Kissing me one more time and turning to offer Daryl a mocking goodbye, I locked the door behind him. I took a beat to collect myself for what I imagined Daryl's questions might be about what he'd just heard and seen.

I turned and saw him still sitting on the bed. His eyes were still on me and I sighed and walked back to my chair. "Sorry about that." I offered, sitting down carefully and putting my hands back in my lap. I looked up and saw something I wasn't prepared for-a grin. A full blown smile that changed his face from fallen angel to pure angel. Dear God, he was amazing. Well, he would be with a haircut.

"You really do push his buttons." He said, giving a chuckle. "Damn girl, I ain't never seen no one turn a man so fast."

I grinned back and felt more at ease. At least until he bit his lip and asked the first and most important to his situation question.

"What'd he mean about not thinkin' I'd be sleepin' alone?" His blue eyes held mine prisoner as I blushed to the roots of my hair. "You're turnin' red."

I nodded at the obviousness of that fact. Yes, I was turning red. Damn Negan and his irritating shit. I cleared my throat, hoping for an explanation that didn't sound like he was being made into a slave boy for my sexual amusement. I sighed heavily. "The truth?" He nodded, urging me with those damn eyes and his smile. "Before you were brought here, Negan offered me a deal." I bit my own lip considering how to explain. "You saw the women that were in the room last night?" He nodded again. "The ones dressed similarly, they're his 'wives'. Multiple, because Negan is such an alpha male." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, he thought since he has a harem of sorts, and I'm left to my own devices so often, I might want to-" God, my skin burned, and I thought he had to feel the heat of it.

Realization dawned and the back of his head hit the headboard with a "thunk". He broke eye contact, so that was a relief, but I couldn't tell if he was terrified, revolted, or just completely ready to smother me with a pillow. When he started laughing I felt my eyes go wide. "Am I the first of your boytoys?" He laughed, clutching at his side. "Jesus, girl, you got bad taste in men."

I glared at him. I have bad taste in men? If he was my first boytoy, then why would I have bad taste in men? Questionable taste, maybe. But bad? Nope. "Boytoy?" I scrunched up my nose at the term. "What am I, eighty?" His eyes met mine again and he sobered a bit. "And I didn't say that's why I saved you from what he had planned. I meant that that's what he thinks." I wanted to growl because I did want him. The dumbass. Although now? Now I was going to have to hide it. Fuck.

"You ain't eighty, but you still have horrible taste." His eyes were still crinkled with residual merth. "I mean, Negan?" He rolled his eyes, pointing at the door he'd left. "And me?" He snorted. "You're educated. Damn, I nearly broke my neck on the piles of books in your bathroom. What the hell would you want with a dumb redneck like me?"

Ugh, I thought, he really couldn't see himself at all. And shit, he wasn't picking up on the line I was trying to feed him either. Which showed he was more perceptive than he gave himself the credit for being. "You're not dumb." I said, shocking myself, because while true I had been planning on building my case about how Negan was seeing things wrong.

He gave another chuckle, this time no merth was present. "Am too." He said, nodding like he just KNEW it. "Didn't really finish school, barely took the time to learn what needed learnin'. Spent most of my time runnin' wild in the woods huntin', fishin', and not worryin' bout nothin' but stupid shit." He nodded at the book I'd been reading the night before that was sitting on the nightstand. "You read everythin'." He picked up the book, a novel I loved even before the nightmare of our lives came true. "Hell, probably couldn't even make out half the words in this."

I grabbed his hand. "Stop that, right the fuck now, Daryl Dixon." I said, my voice still low, but forceful. "Damn, have you never taken stock of yourself?" He started to pull away, but I held firm. "No, if you're going to insinuate things about yourself and my taste in men, then you're going to listen to me." I glared into his eyes, still sitting close to the bed on my chair. "You are far more worthy of affection and attention than you can see and I am about to educate you. What I saw last night, before you had spoken a word, was the face of a fallen angel. Covered in dirt, blood, and God knows what else, you still looked like someone worth saving. When you spat at me, when you told me to 'fuck you', when that glare you held on me you still looked worthy. Then when you came up here with me, after I watched you assess the options, you walked behind me and I knew you were a hunter. You move silently. You checked this room out and instantly knew things that even I probably have missed. And I'm more than certain that you did the same in the bathroom. When I took my own shower, I know as well as I know my own damn name that you searched this entire room." He looked shocked at my perceptiveness. "You wouldn't have even told me about the gunshot wound, because any type of weakness would show your vulnerability, and that can be used against you in any version of our world." I moved closer, leaning forward. "And if you haven't looked in a damn mirror, Daryl Dixon, then that's all the shame, because you are beautiful."

He stared at me as if he were only just seeing me for the first time. I was still glaring at him. Damn men, and their inability to just SEE themselves. "Jesus, you see everything doncha?" He breathed. "You knew I was a hunter just cause I'm quiet?" I could see so many other questions flash across his face.

"And I tracker, if I'm not mistaken." I said, my glare starting to tame. "You notice details. I don't know the details, necessarily, but I can almost see you cataloguing them."

"How do you know that?" He asked, still whispering.

"The way you move, the way your face flashes when you take something in." I shrugged. "I've been able to read people and pick up their intentions and who they really are since I was little." I'd never asked myself how I was the way I was, after all, it was like eye color. I hadn't chosen that either. "It can be a burden."

"Why him?" He jutted his chin toward the door, clearly meaning Negan. "You're so-" He stopped and I knew what he was trying to get across.

"Negan and I are complicated." I said, reminding him of our conversation last night. "I don't mean that I don't care for some part of him, but I'm not IN LOVE with him." I sighed. "He and I, we're partners, he trusts me more than the others. He knows that I can help his plans, or I can ruin them." I smirked. "And, when it's just the two of us, well you saw how he was earlier-"

Now it was his turn to glare. "He's a killer." I nodded, that was irrefutable. "He ain't good enough for you."

I smiled. "Everyone in this new world is a killer, Daryl. Hell, even I have a kill count." He looked shocked, why I didn't know. "And as for good for me, well, I'm not sure anyone is ever perfectly good enough for another."

"What about a fallen angel?" He asked, smiling back and mocking me with my description of him.

"Don't be an ass." I said, pulling my hand away. "You hungry?" I stood to move to the fridge, but once again he stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

"This conversation ain't over." He said, releasing my wrist to hold my hand. "But I could eat."


	4. Chapter 4

I found some suitable snacks to tide us over until our real breakfast arrived. Luckily, my new guard was more competent than most. Ordering for two servings of breakfast to be sent up to my rooms was easy with his polite way. Although, I could have done without the "your majesty" bullshit.

Sitting at the table, because "damn it, woman, I ain't no invalid" we ate some fruit and drank water. I was waiting for the conversation to resume. I had just taken a bite of the apple I'd offered him the previous night when he laughed.

When I looked up to see what was so damn funny, he answered, "Eve temptin' Adam." He held my gaze hostage with those sparkling blue orbs.

I chewed carefully and swallowed. Scared of choking on either lust of laughter, I couldn't be sure. "I'm no Eve." I whispered, taking a drink from my water.

"Sure are temptin' though." He whispered back.

My stomach clenched and fluttered. I sat the apple and water on the table and stood slowly. I felt uncertain, but determined. Moving to where he sat, I watched as he slid his chair back from the table in clear invitation. I took it. Licking my lips, I threw one leg over his lap to the other side so I could straddle him.

Daryl sighed as my crotch greeted his lap and I had to choke back a loud moan myself. He must be nothing but muscle, was my only thought at first. His thighs were hard and I could feel him harden beneath me. I looked into his eyes and was gratified when I saw my own need reflected. I bit my lip and his eyes dropped to my mouth. Before either of us could consider what we wanted, our lips met.

His mouth was soft, demanding, but also willing to take his time. I couldn't hold back my moan as I felt his teeth nip at my lower lip and he took the slight opening as the invitation it was meant to be. As our tongues met, I felt the need to touch him, everywhere. My hands curled in his hair, pulling us tighter together as I felt his hands run down my back to cup my ass and hold me against him. I nearly screamed when I heard the knock announcing our breakfast.

I felt him chuckle as he swallowed my aggravation with his mouth. He pulled back and I could see his own irritation at being interrupted. "If I don't answer the damn door, they'll do something stupid like break the damn thing down." I said, pissed that we had to put a pin in what was certain to be worth the ruined door. Pressing my forehead against his I sighed.

Lifting myself off him was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I just couldn't risk him being hurt by one of the fucking morons that Negan insisted on putting outside my door. They'd be more than willing to kill for his favor and I'd hate for Daryl to be hurt for a misunderstanding. I touched his bottom lip with my thumb, and walked to the door quickly to get the food and get rid of the hassle standing on the other side. When I opened it, first I saw the tray, then I saw who carried it. Fuck. Negan again?

Sighing, I held out my hands for the tray. He didn't give it to me, clearly expecting entry. Damn it. "Welcome back, Negan." I tried to smile, but he knew me too well. Knew that I was pissed. Knew that I was at the end of my tether with his bullshit.

I turned and saw that Daryl and pushed his chair back under the table. Good idea, I thought, sensing that Negan may enjoy taunting me with the harem idea, but wouldn't exactly enjoy seeing it in action. "What a warm welcome, Jessa." He said, drawing inside the room and kicking the door shut with his boot. "Did I interrupt something?"

I wanted so badly to smack him. Hard. Possibly in his dick. "What gave you that idea?" I asked, pulling the tray from his grip and taking it to the table. I glanced down at Daryl and saw he was amused. Men.

"You're pissed, and your lips are swollen." Negan answered, clearly enjoying being a cock block. He shrugged as I pulled the cover off the tray. Scrambled eggs, mystery meat that could be bacon, or sausage, or fashioned to look like either, and fresh baked bread. Not bad. He'd even brought coffee for Daryl and himself, since I don't drink that rank shit. Great, he'd be joining us.

He pulled the chair I'd sat next to the bed up to the table. Yay, a threesome. I gave Daryl his plate and handed Negan the one that was supposed to be mine. Nothing looked appetizing and so I would make due with my apple. Taking another loud bite I watched as the two men in my life dug into breakfast. I'd laugh, but it was fucking weird. They ate similarly, with gusto and enjoying every damn mouthful. And the coffee, for fuck's sake, had Negan made that indecent noise when we made love? And would Daryl?

I ate my apple, watching the two of them. The meal was silent except for the chewing and swallowing. Drinking my water, I noticed that they kept shooting side eye at one another and trying to make eye contact with me. What next, I wondered, would they try to piss on my leg?

They finished their plates before I had half finished my apple. They both savored the coffee. This was going on record as the longest fucking breakfast in the history of my existence and I wanted it over. I wanted Negan to get the fuck out and leave me in peace for a moment.

Finally at the end of my patience, I shouted, making them both look up at me with shock. "Get out! Negan, just go!" I was practically jumping out of my chair, ready to choke the both of them. "Now!" I demanded, as they both stared at me.

Negan looked at Daryl and faux whispered, "See, fire, boy. That's what I'm talking about." He shot me a devilish grin. "Jessa's pissed because I brought ya'll breakfast and invited myself to join you. She's angry because I stopped whatever ya'll were doin' that made her nipples hard and her lips swollen. And when I get up and go, she's going to be on you like you've never imagined." He looked up when I stood and hovered over him. "And she's going to make you want to die inside her. Jessa's MY Queen for a reason, Dixon. She has fire and she has more power than anyone in my ranks. Hope you're healing up after that wound, cause you're gonna need all your energy."

I pointed at the door, feeling so much rage that I was having issues with maintaining my composure. "Go." The force of the word was finally enough. He didn't bother trying to touch me, he knew better at this point. When he left, he even turned the lock so I wouldn't have to move. Negan knew me better than anyone left alive, and because of that he knew when he'd pushed too far. Today was one of those days.

I could barely manage to sit back down, so I was shocked when Daryl's arms closed around me. Blind with rage, I didn't even notice him stand and come to me. I didn't fight him, I knew his touch after one moment. He turned me and walked me to my bed. Lifting me as though I weighed nothing, and lay me down on the pillows he'd laid on the night before. They smelled like the homemade soap they used in the laundry, my shampoo and soap, and him. I felt the mattress dip under his weight as he lay down beside me and pulled me to his chest.

I was shaking from the adrenalin rush. I felt myself slowly calm and his fingers gently caressing my arm. I even thought I felt him kiss my hair, but being piled up, I couldn't be sure. He shushed me when I started to speak. "Just relax, woman." His voice gruff, but sweet at the same time. "We'll talk later, let me hold you and calm you down."

I let myself truly relax into him. Letting him hold me, letting him see me at the worst I've been in God knew how long, it wasn't easy. I rarely let my guard down, and when I did, it wasn't pretty. Negan had seen it over the years, and he knew what buttons to push to bring it right back to the surface. Another reason he feared me. Hard to control someone who has a worse hair trigger than your own. I hated that side of myself. The side that went red with rage and just wanted to hurt the source. It was impulsive and stupid. And I worked hard to be neither.

Daryl was clearly listening and feeling my breathing, shaking, and heart slowing. "There, now, feeling better?" He asked, kissing my temple. I sighed. "Can see why ya have a kill count, girl." I felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle. "Thought he was gonna be added to your tally."

I rolled my eyes, but gave a little giggle as well. "He just fucking gets on my nerves sometimes." I grumbled. "And if I know his buttons, then you just saw that's reciprocal as well." I pulled away to prop my chin on his chest to look up at him from below. "The things he said-"

"Were true." Daryl said. "You have fire, I just saw it flare brighter than the sun." He stroked my cheek with his thumb. "You were pissed that we were interrupted, so was I." His thumb strayed to my full lower lip. "And I already know that I'll wanna die inside you, Jessa." He'd never used my name before, so I nearly stopped breathing. "Shit, I haven't even been inside of you, and I know it." His eyes were bright and soft. "But that shit about you being HIS Queen? That's gonna end up over, and soon." He sounded so sure, so confident that he'd win this tug of war. "I don't share, woman, and I don't intend to start now."

His thumb was still on my lower lip and I answered with a flick of my tongue against the pad. I watched his eyes darken, and felt him twitch beneath me like he was holding back. He was making sure I was alright.

"I ain't no invalid, Daryl." I whispered against his thumb and he pulled me up his body to ravish my mouth again. This time neither of us held back. Moaning, I tried to be careful of his injury, but I needed more of him. He'd pulled me over his body, and I found myself straddling him again. This time he was already hard, and I made a sound nearly as indecent as his had been over the coffee. His hands cupped my ass and pushed me down more firmly against him. Jesus, if he wanted to die inside me, then I was more than game to follow him to heaven or hell.

I pulled back long enough to ask him to roll over. I wanted to feel his weight. Needed to feel him on top of me. And he obliged. Brushing his bangs away from his face, I arched up to meet his hips. Even fully clothed we felt amazing together. Our lips met again, and this time we feasted. Taking our time, learning how we fit together, how we tasted. "Like fuckin' apples," he whispered against my lips. Licking back inside with a moan, we gripped at one another's clothes.

I ran my hand under his sweatshirt, feeling the muscles I hadn't seen, but knew I'd find. I felt his muscles tense and contract under my fingertips. A hiss of breath hit my lips when my fingers went lower, sliding under the elastic waistband of the sweatpants. "Jesus, woman, don't tease me. It's been awhile and I don't want to disappoint." I chuckled into his mouth as I recapture it. As if anything he could do would ever be a disappointment.

Daryl's hands were busy as well. He'd reached into my hair and pulled out the soft elastic that held it up. As it tumbled down and around my head on the pillow, he pulled away to run his nose through the curls. "Fuck, you smell amazin'." I moaned when his fingertips found the hem of my shirt and tugged it up to expose a sliver of skin. "Saw this bit of you this morning and it's burned into my brain. His hands spanned my waist, rough and calloused and making gooseflesh break out.

"Want to see more?" I asked him breathlessly. He groaned in assent and I pushed him back enough to pull the top off of me. The sight of me half naked seemed to make him speechless, but he found another way to show his appreciation. His head dipped and he captured a nipple in his mouth. I had to stifle my noise, certain that Negan hadn't informed the guard that I'd be taken care of in this way. I would die before we'd be interrupted this time.

Daryl's lips suckled, and then I felt a gentle nip from his teeth and I had to grab a pillow to smother the noise that I was sure would carry to the yard outside. "Ya like a little pain, Jessa?" He asked, his breath making my nipple uncomfortably hard. I felt his smile against my skin. "I think I may already be dead, darlin'. Cause this is gonna feel like heaven."

My pajama pants joined my shirt and I lay before him completely bare. He licked his lips like he was starving and I was a full buffet of all his favorite foods. Jesus, how had this man not been taken already? Did his community have no single women? Were they all blind? He dropped down to my skin again, moving from my breasts to lick his way down my stomach. Talk about heaven, I thought as I felt him settle between my legs. I looked down and saw him waiting to lock our eyes together again, then he flicked his tongue out, touching just my outer lips. I arched up to meet him and his hands locked on my hips, holding me to the mattress.

"Now, now." He scolded, his breath reeking havoc on my dampness. "Did I say you could move?" Dear Lord, he was going to go full dominate on me. Jesus, why was he worried about not satisfying me?

I moaned, staring down at him and he smiled. "Fuck, how did you know?" I gasped, watching his eyes crinkle in mirth.

His smile was killing me as was the anticipation. "Pretty damn obvious. If you'd just wanted a quick fuck, you'd have tried last night." His arms were still holding down my hips, but he moved his hand to let his fingers spread me open. "You deny yourself, and me, but not just to give me time to heal or acclimate. I think you like the anticipation. Hell, pretty sure you wouldn't have come to my side of the table if I hadn't given you permission." He flicked his tongue against my exposed sensitive skin. I moaned again, and he smiled against me. "You like control, but you also want permission to let go." Another flick of his tongue. Fuck, he was playing me like a violin. "I'm more than willin' to help ya with that." Keeping my eyes locked on his, he dived in, feasting on me like he'd die without my taste.

It didn't take long before I felt myself clenching around nothingness, but feeling the need to anyway. Fuck, he was going to kill me with just his mouth. And damn if I was going to let that happen. "Stop!" I begged, pleading. "I need you inside of me, Daryl."

I felt him hum against me, but he kept going. Clearly a driven man. "Please, please, please." He fastened his mouth around my clit and suckled and I exploded, grabbing the pillow from where I'd tossed it and screaming my orgasm into it. I couldn't see his face, but I felt him moaning against me, definitely enjoying my reaction to him pleasuring me. As I arched into his mouth and rode the wave against him, I felt myself relax fully. I pulled the pillow away from my face and looked down at him resting against my stomach. My hands slid through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. Scratching lightly against his scalp as he finally looked up at me. His mouth and lipls were still wet from me, and he looked pretty fucking proud of himself.

"Get the fuck up here and kiss me, Daryl." I demanded and he laughed, kissing his way back up my body and giving both my breasts more than ample attention as he rose. Finally his lips met mine. I could taste myself, but his flavor was the overriding one. And one I was slowly becoming addicted to. Pulling back and pressing my forehead against his, I smiled. "Disappoint me?" I whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. "I don't think that's fucking possible." I tugged at the hem of his shirt, not voicing the need I had for his skin against mine, but he received it loud and clear.

"Demanding lil Queen ain't ya?" He asked, pulling away and ripping his shirt off his body. I gave a snap to the waistband of his pants and he smirked. "Should make you wait," he threatened, but seeing my eyes narrow at the thought he chuckled. "That wouldn't do, would it? Can't have my woman too frustrated."

I grinned like an idiot at him claiming me as his woman. I was validated when he tugged his pants from his body and tossed them to the floor. I finally had full reign of his naked body, but I still wanted him on top of me. His weight was soothing and exciting at the same time. I ran my fingers down his neck, over his collarbone, and over his chest. He let me touch and test every one of his scars, and I revelled in knowing that I was why his nipples were hard pebbles. I touched each tip and heard his sharp intake of breath. Over his stomach and across the v of his defined hips. Jesus, one day I was going to take the same trip with my mouth. Reaching the part of him I needed the most, I wasn't disappointed. Hard and silky, it was enough to make my mouth go dry. His eyes, already dark turned almost black at my stroke.

"I want you, Daryl Dixon." I said, pulling him toward me and flicking my tongue against his neck. "Please?" Begging him felt right, and I nearly died when he leaned down to line himself up with me.

His head slid against my damp lips, pushing them apart. I felt him breach my opening and let out a sigh and a moan. Finally, I thought with a strange clarity for the moment, I'm home. As he filled me, and rested his pelvis against mine, our eyes met. And I knew he felt it too. Shook us both to our cores, but we couldn't stop if we tried. Soon we were moving together like we'd been doing it all our lives. He seemed to know exactly how to make my body move and clutch against him. I felt him tighten against me, knowing neither of us were going to make this a marathon. "Don't stop, Daryl." I whispered up at him, rocking my hips against him.

Together we rode higher and higher, then within seconds of my second explosive orgasm, he came, deep inside of me and I felt him react to my walls clutching him and milking him dry. He groaned, and fell forward, crushing me wonderfully with his weight and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Shit, girl." His breath tickled my sweaty throat. "You're enough to make a man fall to pieces." As he slowly softened inside me, he pulled out reluctantly, clearly as needing of our joining as I was. "Damn it." He cursed, as he felt a gentle ooze of his semen push from inside of me. "I probably shouldn't have done THAT though."

I chuckled. "Negan found a huge stockpile of birth control early on in his taking over the Sanctuary. Trust me, we're covered." He pulled me into his body as he turned. Laying me across his chest again, and kissing me gently.

"Good," he said, simply. "Because I don't want a barrier between us. Wanna feel every inch of you against me."

Neither did I, I thought. Neither did I.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl and I laid together on my bed, our bed now, limbs entwined. My head on his chest, I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Hearing it thump against my ear I was beginning to doze off. His hand was running lightly up and down my arm, and I smiled when I felt him pull the blanket up over us.

I felt him sigh above me and kiss the hair at the top of my head. His arms tightened around me and he held me like he wouldn't be anchored to the earth without me. I felt the same about him and it scared me to death. I'd thought what I felt for him was lust, pure and simple. It wasn't. Not even close. When we finally joined together, when I had the flash of being home, that proved that I'd lost my heart. Finally.

A secret that no one knew about me, not Negan, not my own family, was that I had been determined to never fall in love. While I flirted with what might have happened if the world hadn't gone to shit over night, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I wouldn't have fallen in love with Negan. Probably with anyone.

With Daryl, I felt like I was safe. Not safe from the dead, not safe from the violence of the world. Safe to fall. Safe to let myself feel. To lose control and not feel like I was spinning too wildly to come back to earth. If he felt anchored by me, then the same could be said for me toward him. I was terrified. How did it happen so quickly? I didn't think I believed in love at first sight. Destiny or fate? No, that didn't exist. If it did, then why would it happen NOW? Everything was insane and horrible.

I heard his breathing even out and knew he was sleeping. The urge to follow him to dreamland was strong, but I was still so frightened. I barely knew Daryl Dixon. I'd known Negan for a lifetime comparatively. If I was supposed to feel this way, shouldn't Negan have been the one to reap the rewards.

I sighed and snuggled as deeply as I could into Daryl's embrace. His arms tightened, even in sleep he was comforting me. This man, whoever he turned out to be, was my life now. And he barely scratched the surface of me. I struggled to fight the need for rest, wanting to puzzle out this new reality, but I couldn't and soon I fell into dreams of a life where the world wasn't crazy.

I woke when Daryl's stomach rumbled against me. Chuckling I looked up to his amused face. "Sorry." He whispered, his hands combing through my tangled curls gently. "Didn't wanna wake you. Looked so peaceful curled up on me."

I smiled up at him and rose a bit to press a light kiss to his lips. He tried to pull me in for a deeper kiss, but I shook my head. "Can't have my man hungry and losing energy, can I? Besides, I think it's time for your medicine." He rolled his eyes, but released me.

I rolled over to get off the bed, and felt his eyes on my naked form. "I'll take the damn pills, but only if I get a reward." His voice was husky, and I didn't dare make eye contact. I knew if I saw the need and want in his eyes, the pills would be forgotten by the both of us.

"You'll take the damn pills AND eat, then we'll discuss rewards." I tossed back, grabbing the bottle and a few bottles of water. "What do you want to eat, Daryl?"

I didn't hear him approach me, the silence that he moved with made that impossible, so when his arms encircled me from behind and he leaned into my neck to whisper against my hair I had to fight myself from jumping. "What do I wanna eat?" His calloused fingers swiped my hair out of the way. "I think I have a taste for-" His other hand was slowly making its way down my stomach.

I turned around to face him and tried to glare. "You need FOOD, Daryl, and while what you have in mind is," I gave a shiver of longing, "amazing. Food and medication first, please?" His eyes were looking at my mouth, but I didn't think he was listening to the words. "Daryl, baby, please?"

"Fuck, when ya beg me, Jessa." He moaned, yanking me into his own bare skin. His lips claimed mine, and I felt fire flare up between us. I could feel him growing hard against me, but something in me knew we needed to stop, even though every part of me wanted to die rather than pull from him.

Coming up for air, I looked into his eyes. Jesus, he would be my undoing. "Daryl, pills." I whispered, wishing that I could toss them into his mouth and forget the rest of the world forever. "And food," I sighed, feeling my own growling stomach protest against me.

His forehead pressed against mine. "You're hungry, too, huh?" He smiled at me and seemed as reluctant to pull away as I was. "Let's forage in the fridge there and grab something to take back to bed."

I tingle all over from the mere thought of not having to wait after food for him. I handed him his pills, and a bottle of water. "Take two, and I'll read you the menu." I turned from him as he chuckled. I ran through our options again, and this time we chose a few things and before I could take two steps toward the bed with my bundle, he scooped me into his arms. I squealed and he chuckled again.

"This is faster," he said, setting me down carefully on the bed. "Let's eat, so I can have my gold star." He sat down at the foot of the bed, leaving room for my haul.

I giggled at that. Good lord, who knew he'd be so playful? I'd felt his scars, the ones on his back felt horrible. Someone with that type of trauma, someone who had watched a man he knew die in front of him not days earlier, how could he be so light and wonderful? How had he kept such a moral code?

We ate in silence, feeling the gnawing in our stomachs calm down. Water felt more refreshing than either of us would admit. Once all evidence of the meal was gone, he looked at me with eager eyes and I gave a little chuckle. "You can't possibly still be hungry." I said, watching as his eyes turned predatory. He crawled up the bed and I lay back. He looked very hungry. I bit my lip when he was hovering over me, holding all his weight on those arms of his.

"I'm starvin'," he growled, leaning forward and flicking his tongue against my lower lip. "Let me have a lil taste."

I gasped at the feeling and the look in his eyes. He took the open invitation and we came together again. Our mouths collided and it felt completely right. I rolled him over on his back as we kept our lips together. If Daryl wanted a reward for taking his medication and eating, then I was damn sure going to give it to him.

I pulled away, looking into his need darkened eyes, and smiled at him. His eyes watched me as I dipped my head and kissed down his neck, flicking my tongue against his Adam's apple. I felt him swallow hard against my tongue, and continued down nipping at his collarbone, feeling him shiver. I took my time, this may be his reward, but it was also a promise I'd made to myself when I took a similar trip with my fingertips.

When I licked his hard nipple, his hands finally found my hair, and he smoothed it back from my face so he could watch my progress easier. I nipped the hard bud, and he moaned. I looked up into his eyes and saw that he was biting his lip to keep himself quiet. One day, I thought, I would find a place where the two of us wouldn't have to keep quiet. I wanted to hear him screaming my name and I wanted to be able to be as loud as he made me want to be.

"Looks like you like a little pain too, Daryl." I whispered against his sensitive and wet nipple. I flicked my tongue against it and waited to see if he would answer me, but the only answer I got was his clamping a hand against my head, and another gasp. I smirked and kept going. The other nipple received the same attention, being fair minded as I could be. Satisfied that I'd kept everything even, I kissed lower, chuckling against his skin as I felt his muscles contract at my touch. Flicking my tongue against his smooth abdomen, I settled myself between his legs, carefully not touching the one part of him that we both wanted me to. I licked lightly down one side of his perfectly sharp v in his hip and finally looked back up at him.

He was breathing heavily, but his eyes were still on me. Locking my eyes on him just like he'd done to me, I smiled as I licked my lips. "Ready for your 'gold star', baby?" I asked. His eyes were blown wide with lust and need, but his voice seemed gone. I got a shaky nod, and smiled. My hand encircled him at his base while my mouth lowered. I flicked my tongue gently against the spongy head, tasting his skin and enjoying the saltiness. Giving a gentle hum, I opened wider and took him in, sucking down and sliding back up. His hands in my hair, against my scalp felt like he was holding back from what he really wanted to do, so I pulled off him with a small pop. "Daryl?" He was staring so hard into my eyes I felt like he could see everything. "This is your reward, remember?" His breath hissed, and I could tell he understood. I opened my mouth again to envelop him and his hands pressed me forward, taking more of him, and I let him use my mouth as he saw fit. He wasn't harsh, I wouldn't even call it 'face fucking', it was simply letting him show me how he wanted me to please him.

I brought my hand along to play, stroking him as I sucked, and felt him stiffen under me. Ah, he wanted to feel EVERYTHING. Letting my other hand drift to his sensitive sack, and gently rolling against him, I knew he was in heaven because he was having more trouble breathing easily. Two hands and my mouth working him, with his hands leading me along the path he most wanted, I felt him start to surge. I pulled back only long enough to give him a bit of verbal reinforcement. "Come on, baby, don't hold back now." And swallowed him again, soon the tempo he picked became erratic, and I felt his sack tighten. Prepared for what was about to happen, I pulled back slightly, choking wouldn't be great for an ending. And I took everything he gave me, every ounce. I swallowed it and kept licking until I felt him grow soft in my mouth.

I pulled off him reluctantly. Making him as happy as he'd made me, I never wanted that to end. Hell, if we could play Adam and Eve forever, laying naked in this room that really would be heaven. I leaned forward a bit and lay my head on his stomach, just like he'd done for me. I felt content and if I had been a cat, I might have purred. Daryl's fingers were still tangled in my hair, but he was now just running his fingers through the knots in my curls.

Daryl's voice was quiet when he begged me to look at him. I looked up, my content smile evident and his smile was equally blissful. "You're beautiful, Jessa." He whispered, his smile holding and almost wistful. "If I didn't have people who depended on me out there," he poked his chin toward the door, "I'd happily die right here wrapped up in you." I sighed, I knew he'd eventually get to the heart of it. Why this, us, couldn't work.

I nodded against his stomach. My eyes stung, I was holding back my tears, refusing to see how much it hurt to know he'd pick people I didn't know over me. I knew he'd spent a lifetime with those people, people he hadn't discussed with me, but I also knew that he felt what I had felt during our first time.

I didn't feel the tear slide down my cheek, but he saw it, because I felt the pad of his thumb brush it away. "Hey, don't cry." He pulled me up to him and held me against his chest. "I don't mean I don't want to take ya with me, woman." He held me tight to him as I cried harder. "Didn't I say you weren't gonna be his QUEEN anymore?" I tried to reign in my angst as I listened to him. "I wanna take ya with me, Jessa. I wanna have a life with ya in our community." His lips grazed my head and he held me as I listened to him. "You'll love Alexandria. It's as peaceful as it can be during this shit, and my people will love ya."

I gave an indignant snort. I lifted my head and propped myself up on with my chin on his chest to look at him. "I'm Negan's QUEEN, Daryl. Your people hate him, they'll want to kill me." I knew I was right, even if Daryl and I managed to get away, his people had to want Negan dead, and if they were smart, then they'd see me as a way to make him suffer.

Daryl sighed. "Won't let 'em." He said, tightening his arms around me. "I want ya forever, and if it comes to them or you, it's you." I could hear the pain in his voice at the mere thought of such a choice and wanted to talk him out of it, but as he had since the beginning, he read me perfectly. "Don't say I ain't gonna choose you, Jessa. I told ya, I knew before I touched ya I'd want to die inside ya, and I still mean that. In Alexandria, or somewhere else, don't matter to me. You and me, together, that's what my choice is. Not here, though."

I considered what he was saying. Could we leave here? Could we be free of Negan and his rules and minions? Would I be able to actually breathe outside without seeing people try to curry favor or learn the way to Negan's good graces? I couldn't bear the thought of hoping. Hoping and then being unable to make it happen would destroy me. Not being with Daryl after one day of passion-unthinkable to me.

Strangely saying goodbye to Negan gave me no pause. Leaving him, and his mess of ideas and goals behind, knowing that I would never have to wonder how much of what he gave me was due to aftection or fear of what I knew about him sounded like a pipe dream. A pipe dream that I'd give my last breath to see.

It was madness, utter and complete idiocy, though wasn't it? To fall this quick and so hard, with a man I barely even knew. Thinking about how long I'd known Negan, and how it turned from an affair to this, made me wonder if that's why this was different. Knowing everything about Negan made me dangerous to him. Knowing nothing about Daryl made it simple. He'd barely scratched my surface either. What if we left and he realized that I was nothing like what he'd expected.

"We barely know one another, Daryl Dixon." I said, moving so I was lying beside him and turned to face him. "How do you know for sure I'm worth taking along?" I asked, wondering truly what he wanted from me. There was a fear blooming in my chest. A fear I was hoping he'd quench.

"Don't see yourself any better than ya say I see me." He said, turning to face me. "Everythang you've done for me, since I got here and met ya. I don't care why Negan gave me to ya, Jessa. Ya saw me hurtin' and ya sent straight for the doctor. Ya threatened Negan for me. Ya threatened his people for me." He cupped my face in his hand and stared at me like he'd never seen anything so amazing. "I don't give a shit what you and Negan HAD. I don't care about what hold ya have on him. I want you like I've never wanted nothin'."

The fear that I felt clutching at my chest was lightened at his explanation. He didn't expect me to tell him what power I held over Negan. He didn't care. He wanted me. Me for me.

"My people would find your skills useful." Daryl said, smoothing the worry from around my eyes with his thumb. "I mean the skills with knowing people. What they are, how they work. Like how ya knew I was a hunter and tracker." He smiled at me. "If ya want, we don't have to tell 'em bout you and Negan. Not like Dwight will be welcome back home anyway."

I cleared my throat, considering the options. How would we manage it? I didn't want to escape. That wouldn't do. Negan would destroy the world if I just disappeared. Could I negotiate our release? Could I convince him to just let Daryl and me go? He wanted us both, he felt he had a right to both of us. What could I do to convince him?

"Can almost smell them gears turnin' in your head, girl." He whispered, pulling me to him for a brief kiss. "If ya don't want me, let me know and I'll stop pressurin' ya." God, he was seeing the gears turn, but hadn't a clue about what they were turnin' for.

"I want you, Daryl Dixon, more than even Negan wants you for his Saviors." I answered, clutching at his shoulders. "I just don't think an escape is the way to do this." I saw his brows furrowed in confusion. "If I escape with you, he'll tear apart your community first. He'll make everyone think that you TOOK me, against my will. He'll make you a target. And all those people that depend on you will be in danger." I cupped his chin and smoothed my own thumbs across his lips. "I was trying to decide how to make it worth his while to let us go."

"Let us go?" Daryl whispered, clearly thinking that was madness. "You're his QUEEN, Jessa. He'd lose face. His ego ain't gonna let that happen."

"Which is why I'm trying to work out how to make our leaving make more sense, than us disappearing." I said, still working through a plan in my head. "I know I can figure this out, Daryl. I want the picture of the future you're painting, I do, but escape isn't going to work. You get that right?"

He chewed his lip in thought. "I saw ya turn him around earlier." He nodded, thinking too. "If anyone could get that dickhead to change his damn mind, it'd be you."


	6. Chapter 6

We eventually got up and took a shower together. Daryl washed my hair with more detail than any salon ever had, and I returned the favor. We took our time, but it wasn't frantic like our earlier moments. We had spoken to one another about what we wanted, and knowing the other was just as determined to see it through, we could slow down.

His lips met mine repeatedly as we washed one another. And I answered each sweet kiss with one of my own. He stepped out of the shower first, opening a dry towel for me to step into. I smiled at his care, and let him wrap me up. His kiss on my forehead was as tender as the ones we'd shared in the shower. Drying off, we pulled on our clothes, his sweatsuit and a new pair of pajamas for me.

We sighed, knowing that we'd much rather run naked and hot, but we had plans to make. Clothes were necessary to keep us on task. I'd even thrown on a bra, just so I wouldn't be distracting to him. Sitting at the table, I wondered if we should order our dinner to be sent up or should we venture down to get our own. Daryl answered that for me by walking to the fridge and grabbing snacks, two more bottles of water, and bringing the fruit basket to the table. We'd barely sat when a knock came to the door.

"I swear to Christ, if that's Negan again," I muttered, walking to the door and opening with a jerk. It wasn't, it was the basket of laundry I'd sent out the night before. The wife who brought it was trying to see around me, clearly curious as to what Daryl and I were up to, I blocked her easily and took the basket from her.

"Thank you, Sherry." I said, with a smile that must have looked genuine because she looked almost taken aback. I was rarely friendly with the wives or Saviors. I put up with them, I was civil at most. "I have another load if you don't mind?" She nodded her assent and I felt Daryl behind me with the basket. Little shit. He handed the basket to her and took the one I had in my hands away. Ah, servant, that's right.

"No rush on that load," I said, closing the door to shut off any attempt at conversation. I looked over at the pleased as punch man sitting facing the door. I smiled at him as he smirked back. "

"Just playin' my part, darlin'." He winked at me and I laughed. Rushing back to the table and giving him a long kiss. "What was that for?" He asked, when I pulled away.

I smiled down at him, and pushed his far too long bangs out of his face. "Because I adore you, Daryl Dixon." I took the chair beside him and grabbed some fruit while we planned.

"I don't like it." Daryl said, for what seemed like the five hundredth time.

I rolled my eyes. He didn't like it, but I knew it would work. "Do you not agree with it because it will take some time, or because I'll have to let him be close to me for it to work?" I wanted to know, because one could be worked around, possibly, but the other was imperative.

He was glaring at me and for a moment I flashed back to the previous night. He'd had that same look when I saw him for the first time. I hated it, but I needed to understand. "Both. Mostly stayin' here." He chewed his lip and groaned. "No, fuck that, mostly the thought of that bastard touchin' you again."

I sighed. "I never said I'd give in to his touch, Daryl." He took his clenched fist and kissed the knuckles. "All I said was that I needed to get him alone. You do know that Negan and I don't just have a physical relationship?"

His glare softened a bit when my lips touched his skin, but it was nowhere near gone. "And if he don't listen? If he wants ya, how are ya gonna stop him?"

My turn to glare. "He won't rape me, Daryl." I fought down the anger. "He's NEVER shown me any violence. And yes, I have turned him down plenty of times." For fuck's sake, just because his followers would do anything for the man didn't mean I would.

"Jessa," he said, clearly struggling to not scream out. "You've never had another man in your life. Not while ya were with him." He was trying to explain his reasoning, but I was having difficulty accepting the foreign picture he was trying to paint. "You turn his ass down now and he's gonna know. If ya give in to him, I'm gonna wanna kill his ass more than I already do. That's the truth of it, if you'd stop bein' so damn stubborn and see it."

I sighed again. Throwing back my head in frustration. Shit this was hard. "I"ll claim I'm having my monthly, then." Hell, if we do it my way, I'll be having my period. "I won't let him, Daryl. He might have to kiss me, that's as far as I'll allow it." His glare deepened and he looked at my lips in anger. "For fuck's sake, haven't you had a girlfriend who had to kiss another guy under the fucking mistletoe? It's not the end of the world."

"No." He answered, and I wasn't sure what question he answered. "I ain't had no girlfriend kiss another guy under mistletoe, cause there's been no other girlfriends."

"Oh." I said, shocked. Damn it was every female not of his own blood that had ever met him fucking stupid? "None?"

He was gnawing so hard on his lip that I was frightened he'd bite through it. He was still glaring and I was still in shock. "None." One word and it meant everything. Shit.

"And me?" I asked, wondering if that's really where it all was coming from. I was amazed, but still shook.

Daryl looked straight into my eyes and whispered. "You're it, the only one." He answered, and then it clicked. Daryl was a puzzle. He was a puzzle that I'd spend the rest of my life learning.

"Don't you want to play the field a little first?" I asked, thinking he deserved to be sure, even if it would break my heart.

His eyes were holding mine hostage, and I was sure that would never change for us. His focus on me, mine locked on his. "No." He said, simple and clear.

I stood up and walked to him, he pushed his chair back, like before. This time I sat on it, not sexually, just wanting to hold and be held. His arms wrapped around me like I was certain they always would. "You are one very amazing man, Daryl Dixon."

He scoffed. "Nah, just never found anyone like ya." He kissed my temple and I smiled. "Musta been waitin' for ya my whole life. Cause I ain't felt nothin' like this before." I turned to him and kissed him fully on the mouth. Again, not trying to get anything started, but letting him know that I loved him.

I had to break the seriousness, and I wanted confirmation. "Clearly not a virgin though." His laughter vibrated over me.

"Nah, done that before." He was still heaving a bit with laughter. "Had to hone my craft." I giggled. "Wanted to be sure when I found ya, I'd not be disappointin'."

"Not a chance," I answered, smiling into his neck. "I love you, and it scares me senseless."

He pulled me up to look into my eyes. "Why are ya scared?" He looked confused.

I gave him a smile, sad probably, but he'd asked and he should know the truth. "My mom told me when I was little that my daddy died defending our country for us. Me and her, I mean." I thought back to how angry my mother had always been when I was little. "She wasn't happy that she was stuck with me alone, I guessed at the time, because she wasn't nice to me." Understatement of the decade, the woman had provided the necessities, but not love, not even a little affection. "I got more attention at school, where I did well and the teachers could just tell something was wrong, you know?" He nodded. "When she got sick, I was in junior high. I'd had minimal contact with my grandparents, her parents, because she said they were bad people. But when she got cancer, she had to let them in. My grandparents were amazing, they showered me with love. I couldn't understand, and then when she knew she was dying, it was the end. She finally told me the truth."

Like he'd been doing since we'd started getting to know one another, Daryl seemed to sense what I was saying was difficult for me. His arms tightened around me. "My father was in the military, but when she found out she was pregnant with me, he ditched her. She was in love with him. He'd been stationed for training when she'd found out about me and she waited until he had leave to come home to tell him. It was too late to end her pregnancy when she found out he didn't want kids." I felt the tears come when I relived finding out that my mother truly never wanted me. "She had me, but her parents told her that she had to raise me. They refused to have their grandchild farmed out to an orphanage, and they felt that she needed me. She told me that she'd always wished late term abortions were a thing, because she'd have jumped on it." I sniffled, but kept going. "She kept my grandparents away for the same reason she didn't show me a speck of affection. She hated the three of us. Me, for ruining her chances with the man she loved. Them, for making her keep me." I felt him brush away my tears, but I had to go on. He had to know. "My grandparents felt such guilt, Daryl. They heard her telling me and thought I would hate them, but I couldn't. I couldn't show them affection though, how could I? I didn't know HOW. They lived in the town that Negan taught high school, and when she died I went to live with them." I remembered the house, so big and welcoming. My grandma trying desperately to include me in their lives. My grandpa trying to show me the love he realized I'd been denied.

"My grandma died before I left high school. Heart attack. I don't think she ever knew how much she meant to me." I remembered trying to show her, without words how much I cared. "My grandpa died right before all this happened. It's how I got acquainted with Negan, again. His wife and my grandpa were in the same hospital. We met in the cafeteria one day and one conversation turned into another, until it finally happened." I swiped at my own tears now. "I felt like such a horrible person. She was DYING and I was sleeping with her husband. God, what a bitch I must have been. My grandpa died before she did. And I don't know if I ever showed him how much I cared about him either." I looked at him and saw him looking at me with pity. "Don't pity me, Daryl. My decision was based on logic. If I came from love, and it turned to shit, then why the HELL would I want to give it a try. Sex, some type of caring, that was fine. But love? I only felt it when I was a teenager, what the hell was I supposed to do with that type of late blooming bullshit?"

"My dad beat all of us." His voice was hushed. "Those scars you felt on my back? Him." His eyes were tight with the pain of memory. "My brother, Merle, he was older so he got out. Left, joined the army. My mom burned to death, in her bed. That left me." I was starting to see we weren't so different. His scars were outside and mine were internal, but birds of a feather. "I hate to take my shirt off around people. I hate seeing 'em look at me like they can't see nothin' but them." I nodded, made sense. "I took it off for ya." His gaze held mine. "I let ya touch 'em." I nodded again. "You ain't everyone else to me, Jessa. I love ya, and I trust ya. And scares the shit out of me too, but I'm willin' if ya are."


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm willing," I whispered into Daryl's shoulder. His arms tightened around me.

"Then we hammer this plan out." he whispered back, face pressed into my hair.

I moved to get up from his lap, but his arms tightened, holding me firm. "Keeping me hostage, Mr. Dixon?" I asked him, turning my smiling face to his.

"Plan on holdin' ya forever." He answered, a soft smile on his face. "Not gonna stop today. We can plan fine right here." He kissed me gently. Our foreheads touched and I stared into his blue eyes.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" I asked, humbled by him and his devotion to me.

One of his hands came up to cup my cheek. "You were just you, Jessa." His thumb brushed against my skin, calloused and rough, but still so gentle. "That's all, and it's more than enough."

We went back to planning. "Negan rarely visits me more than twice a week." I said, in the middle of our decisions. I ignored the slight growl from Daryl at the image that raised. "He does ask me to go to him so I can advise him about different aspects of Sanctuary business. Hopefully, with your people being warned," I closed my eyes at the terror they must feel. "We'll have a few days before he calls me to him again." He nodded, clearly used to planning missions more complicated than this, but I doubted as sensitive. "Tomorrow, we start leaving the rooms. You need a rough layout, just in case," I felt him tense up.

"It'll work." He said, not willing that in this new world plans went to shit with regularity.

I fought the urge to introduce reality into the situation. Daryl needed reassurance, so I'd give it to him. "Well, we might want real food for once. And I need to restock my own cupboard. Plus, I'd like to show you something."

He raised an eyebrow, which was almost hidden by his bangs. "I ain't good with surprises at the best of times, babe."

I chuckled. "Thought I'd show you the armory." He smiled. "You won't be able to participate, BUT I can show you my skills." The smile broadened. "I want to show you that I can do more than talk my way out of bad situations. Just because I'm kept in the tower, doesn't mean I can't keep my skill set fresh."

"How often?" He asked, smiling at the thought of me training.

"Few times a week. I like to go when no one else does." I answered, grinning at him. "Night time, usually. Negan's people like to appreciate their safety, so unless they're on duty, they're napping." He nodded and I swear I felt him growing hard beneath me. "Seriously?!" I chuckled. "Are you getting hot and bothered by the thought of me fighting?"

He bit his lip. "Depends." Grin turned to a smirk. "What weapon ya usin'?"

I laughed quietly. "You tell me." I answered, whispering against his ear and hearing him gasp at the hot air against his lobe. I was curious at how well he could read people.

His hands curled around my body. "What do I get if I guess right?" He almost groaned.

He liked being rewarded. "How about this- closer the guess, I remove an article of clothing?" He started chewing his bottom lip and I noticed how dark his eyes were growing.

"Turnabout," he answered, coming up with his own addition. "You guess mine too. Same terms."

I studied him for a moment. "Primary weapon of choice? Or any we are trained in use of?"

He chuckled, "Primary. Otherwise, I have a feeling we'd both be naked and fast. Wanna make it interestin'."

I nodded, and stood up and he followed suit. "Since you wanted to know first, you get to ask first."

He brought his thumb to his mouth and bit the side, thinking. "Knife."

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Yer turn." He gestured at me. I bit my bottom lip. Think, Jessa. He's a hunter, rifle would make the most sense. If he found one with a scope or had one with a good enough one, he'd be damn well dangerous. "Rifle."

His smirk returned. "Nope." He mimicked my tone. He studied me with a tilt of his head, seeing how I was squared off and studying him back. "Bat."

"Baseball or fanged?" I asked, with a giggle. He glared at me and I gave another shake. "No, that's Negan's thing."

Still thinking about the hunting and tracking. He'd need silence, guns make too much noise even with the dead staying dead. And if he were planning on bagging more than one piece of game he'd need that silence. "Bow." I answered, and he took off his shirt, but nothing else.

"Close, but not fully right, Jessa." He said, conceding at least a partial victory to me.

"Might not be fully right, but I'm still fully clothed, Daryl." I said, mocking him with a sweep of my hand. I watched him think on it and his eyes finally glowed.

"Bow." He guessed and I nearly groaned, damn it.

I shimmied out of my pants, and then my panties, and then the shirt, and the bra. "Damn it, how did you guess?"

He grinned and closed the gap between us. Lifting me with a swoop into his arms and carrying me to bed. "Got no poker face, when you mentioned the bow, your hand twitched. Just like an archer might when they were preparing to move to their quiver." He shrugged and gave me a kiss as he set me down on the bed. "Archer, huh?"

My turn to shrug. "The damn things HEAR everything, so it made the most sense." I could see that Daryl didn't buy that being the whole story. "Plus, my grandpa taught me when I moved in with him and Grandma. He was shocked at how good of a shot I was at the targets. Laughed his ass off when he took me hunting and I threw up during my first kill. Turkey, it was gross."

Daryl chuckled. "Field dressin' a turkey sucks." He nodded in agreement.

"Ugh, all those damn feathers." I said with a grimace. "So you said that a bow was close." I squinted and contemplated. "Crossbow?"

He nodded, his hands running down my sides. "Yeah, been through damn knows how many, but I like the balance of em." I gave a gasp when his hands reached my stomach. "Ya like that?" He asked, letting the pads of his fingers scrape along my abdomen. I bit my lip. "Like me touchin' ya?" I nodded. "Good, cause I'll die 'fore I stop."

He dropped his head to run his nose along my neck. "Daryl?" I sighed, wanting to go on, but enjoying getting to know him. He hummed for me to ask my question. "Your brother? What happened to him? Is he living in your community?" I felt him still against me. "You don't have to answer, I'm sorry."

He raised his head to look at me. "Don't apologize. I want to tell ya everythin' 'bout me." He sighed, and lay his head against my chest. My arms wrapped around him. "Merle's dead. We, our group, my family, we had a place before Alexandria. We'd made a life there, safely, and were plannin' for a long stay. There was this guy, called himself the Governor." He snorted. "Evilest bastard I ever seen. Merle worked for him, we'd gotten separated earlier, out of Atlanta." My arms tightened. "The Governor he captured me, tried to force me and Merle to fight. We got out, together, but eventually my dumbass brother decides to right all his wrongs at once. Tries to take him out himself. Got bit. Probably the Governor's doin'." His hands gripped at my sides at the memory. "I had to kill him myself." I could feel his tears on my chest, and I ran a hand through his hair. Trying to sooth away the terrible memory.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." I whispered, kissing his head. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

He moved to look up at me. "Never apologize for wantin' to know me, Jessa." He moved back so we were face to face again and kissed me senseless. "I want ya to know everythin'. I told ya. No secrets."

I nodded. "I just don't want to ask too much, not while we're here." I said, sweeping his hair back from his face. "I don't want your people to be in danger." I said, searching his eyes for his understanding, showing him I was taking his fears about Negan and me seriously.

He smiled sadly. "I know you'd never hurt my people, Jessa." He whispered, leaning down to brush our lips together. "And I love ya for it." He smiled down at me.

Sex was forgotten while we held one another. His head on my chest, I ran my fingers through his hair, thinking about how many layers one human could have. Daryl had so many. The largest, by far, seemed to be his passion for things. For his people, for his world, for me. Passion that Negan would hate to lose. I thought about what was supposed to happen when we played "Guess or Strip" only minutes before and how it turned on a dime with just one curious question from me.

As my fingers ran through his silky hair, I chuckled. Feeling him stiffen against me, I looked down as he looked up. "Do I know how to kill the mood or what?" I asked, smiling at him.

Daryl smirked back. "Damn girl, the mood ain't nowhere near dead." His eyes were still dark and I had a vision of him in the woods stalking his prey. Before the image passed, his mouth claimed mine. Our moans dueled as our chests collided. Skin on skin. How we should always be. The naturalness of it, made me breathless. Like Adam and Eve.

My focus on trivial matters dimmed. Daryl's mouth, my hands clutching in his hair, his skin against mine, that's all that mattered in my world. Suddenly I felt more of his skin against mine and couldn't process how he managed to take his pants off without me noticing. Filling me, all other thoughts went away, all that I cared about was us. How perfect and right it felt to be together. Peace filled me as he did. Skin on skin, arching into him, was my heaven.

The act of making love with Daryl would never grow old. Never become mere duty. Every time would feel different, new. This time it was feverish, frenzied. The need to come together overwhelmed us. When we came, both of us had to bite into the other's skin to mask the screams of completion threatening to overtake us both. After, we curled together, face to face unable to stand being separated. Even as he softened within me and was forced to withdraw, we clutched against one another.

Covered in sweat, limbs tangled, we smiled tiredly at one another. I felt his fingers on my shoulder, tracing where his teeth had marked me. "That's gonna leave a mark." I could see a bit of apology mixed in with his obvious pride. He leaned in and kissed it softly.

One of my hands brushed his hair out of his face, while the fingers of the other traced my own bite. "I gave you one to match." I smiled as he tried to see it. "I swear, one day, we're finding a place where we can let the fuck go."

His smirk answered my grumble. "That so?" His eyes were growing hungry again. "What we gonna do in a place like that?"

I rolled him onto his back and straddled his body. Looking down, I smiled. "I have a couple ideas, Daryl Dixon." Leaning down, I kissed him until we had to part to catch our breath. "Want me to tell you about some of them? Or should I show you?"


	8. Chapter 8

That night, the time confirmed by a quick check with my new guard dog, we decided to venture out of my rooms. Why put off tomorrow, what you can do today, right? My newest accessory, who kindly introduced himself as Marcus, no Mark, maybe it was Matt? Anyway, he would accompany us to our little errands. Daryl looked more comfortable now that he was redressed in his own, freshly laundered clothes, and I'd even celebrated the occasion by putting on jeans and a comfortable t-shirt.

Look at us, I wanted to tease, clothes on and out of the room. Of course I abstained. The "M" guard wouldn't understand the joke and Daryl already looked like he was chewing and swallowing sharp glass. Yep, fun for days.

I realized that I would have to play the part of the lady of the house-factory-shithole. Whatever. I had my internal script.

"Mr. Dixon, I'm going to show you the armory and-" shit, "M" speak up so I don't look as stupid as I feel.

"Mateo." He regifted me his name. Well, shit, that wasn't even on my list of possibles. Yeah, I was advising Negan to get name tags.

"Mateo," I continued, "is going to make sure you don't do anything you'll regret while I get in some practice." Daryl was smirking where only I could see. "Then we'll head to the kitchen and stockrooms. When you become a fully fledged Savior," I nearly choked and snorted the likelihood, "you'll have points that act as credits for supplies and food that you want or need. Negan is a benevolent master." Gag, puke, did. "So he also gives his people special rewards, regularly. Mateo, what was the last gift Negan gave you all."

"Fresh vegetables for everyone, just yesterday." He gave an adoring smile and I had to clench my jaw. "No points needed."

I rolled my eyes. Yay no points for fresh food, what a dick. "See, so thoughtful." I gritted my teeth. "I don't have a point system, as his Queen, you understand. I'm sure you can look through the sign out sheet to get a better understanding." Of his ranks, and the numbers.

"Tomorrow, if the relief guard wakes me," I looked over my shoulder at Mateo and got a nod. Make sure they knock and loudly, I thought. "I'll bring you down for breakfast." For a larger head count. "You'll see how the point system works first hand. For now, you're in my care, so all that you need is through me." Forever and Always.

I could tell Daryl was taking stock of the building as I led us around the longest route. Noticing no doubt where guards were positioned and where there weren't any. We finally arrived at the armory and I felt Mateo move in closer to Daryl. "Mr. Dixon doesn't need to be held down, Mateo. He's just observing." Move before he breaks you in two, you idiot. I moved to the room that held the weapons and picked up my bow. It was always ignored, not just because it was mine, but because the morons he kept bringing in preferred guns. Grabbing my full quiver I reentered the target room. I looked over to where Mateo was hovering too close to Daryl. "Mateo, back off, please." I motioned for Daryl to move toward me and held up a hand when I deemed him close enough. "You can watch from there, and Mateo can watch you from his spot."

I turned my back to them both and was happy to see that someone had reset the hand drawn paper targets before they all left. Good, I didn't feel like doing it myself. Rolling my shoulders and neck, I pulled my bow taunt to check the draw strength. While no one touched the damn thing, somehow it would regularly get readjusted. Finding it perfect I smiled. Well, wasn't everything coming up roses tonight?

Drawing an arrow from the quiver, I fitted it into place and drew back, lining up my mark with the target's head. Deep breath and release. Perfectly dead center. I did it repeatedly, until all the paper targets were pincushions. I didn't just focus on the head, since the danger wasn't always the dead. I hit the heart, I hit the kidney, I hit both arms. Feeling proud that I wasn't rusty yet, I turned to see Daryl's eyes watching me intently. Pupils blown wide and I bet he was thankful he was wearing more restrictive jeans, instead of those loose fitting sweat pants.

"Mateo?" I called, watching him snap to attention. Bored at watching archery, what a damn shame. "Could you reset the targets? And put my bow back after collecting those arrows, please?" I could see that he wanted to argue that it wasn't his job, but then watched as he remembered who I was. He walked over and took my bow carefully from me and the quiver. Then walked toward the targets as I moved back to Daryl. "Feeling ok, baby?" I whispered.

"Jesus, girl." His lips were barely moving, but I could hear him. "That was fuckin' hot."

I licked my lips and smiled at him. "Want to skip the kitchens?" I raised an eyebrow, wanting to see how perfect his self control could be.

"Better not." He said. "The ankle biter there will get suspicious, and I doubt I'd be able to keep the fact that I was tearing your clothes off as soon as the door shut all that quiet." We both chuckled. "But when we leave here? For good? That's gonna be all I do after a practice like that."

I felt myself tingle at the thought. Shit, I want to be there already. "Something to look forward to." Mateo was finishing with the arrows and now he went around removing the torn targets and replacing them with fresh. "Anything you NEED to see? That I'm not already showing you?"

He considered, watching Mateo as well. "Think we can go all the way outside? Had a dark hood over my damn head when I got here. Want an idea of what the outside looks like, just in case." Good he was thinking straight.

"Yeah," I answered. "I usually take the kids out for a few storytimes during the week. We can fit it in the day after tomorrow." He nodded. "Anything else?"

He smirked and I knew it was coming. "Oh I have a few ideas, but they're things I want to see in private." I forced myself not to giggle.

"You're incorrigible." I smirked back, as Mateo rejoined us. "Good, that's done, now let's go to gather up my supplies."

AN HOUR AFTER WE STARTED

"Thank you, Mateo." I said, closing the door behind us and locking it. Daryl's body wrapped around me from behind before I could turn. "Aren't you feeling frisky?" I whispered, tilting back against him.

"Told ya," he whispered against my neck. "That was fuckin' hot, baby, and I plan on takin' care of both of us, right now."

I grinned as I turned in his arms and kissed him. "Sounds like the best fucking offer I've ever gotten."


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl Dixon would be the death of me. That I was certain of. As he hovered over my body, drinking in the look of absolute bliss on my face, his smile nearly made me come undone all over again. We'd been locked in what seemed like an unending round of sex, hot and sweaty, slow and needy, and fast and furious for hours. When he said it was sexy to watch me practice, he'd meant every fucking word.

He was arching into me again, this time agonizingly slow, rocking his hips so we both feel every single inch of one another. While our eyes stayed locked together, memorizing the ways our eyes changed with every new sensation, our hands were touching a teasing more from the other. Tempting him to go faster, harder, while his worked to coax another orgasm to rage through me.

In the end, sated by one another finally, we lay wrapped together simply content in the contact our bodies continued. Feeling his heart beating under my hand, I smiled. "Daryl Dixon, you are amazing." I sighed, letting my eyes finally drift closed.

Before sleep took me, I heard him whisper back to me, "You're my salvation, Jessa."

I heard the knock on the door as I was coming awake in the morning. I was still wrapped up in Daryl, in his embrace with our legs tangled. I pulled away, covering him with the blanket and throwing on my robe. I thought it must be the wake up that I'd asked for, so I opened the door only a sliver, keeping my bed out of view. I bit back another curse when I realized that Negan had once again chosen to grace me with his presence.

"Negan," I greeted, opening the door just wide enough for him to enter. I could see the minion guard he'd posted waiting outside and trying to rubberneck to see inside.

"Jessa, my love." He whispered, as he took in Daryl's sleeping form and his smile grew into a Cheshire cat grin. "I see you finally shot your shot." His eyes met mine and as I rolled them. "Worth it?"

Jesus, he was smug. I was shocked that Daryl hadn't woken when I got up, but we had been extra active and he was still wounded. "Is that all you're visiting for? To see if I gave in to temptation?"

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. "Gotta admit, I was curious." He shrugged, looking down at me. "Was it worth it?" He repeated, and I started to wonder if this was some sort of test. Had I passed or failed? Did I care?

"It was." I offered, smiling wider than I think I ever had before. "Daryl's-" I cut myself off, seeing the storm clouds start to build on Negan's face. Ah, a test. And going into detail at how truly satisfying Daryl was wouldn't be wise. "He's different." From you, from what we share, he's real.

"I'm sure he is." He was studying me intently. "Tired of him, yet?" This was the test, I realized, how long I'd be diverted by someone else. Someone not him.

I pulled out of his arms and walked toward the sofa. Sitting down against one of the arms, I acted as though I was considering his question. I was considering my answer, how to answer without putting Daryl in danger. Without being the source of punishment. He joined me, leaving no breathing room between us.

"Are you tired of your playthings, yet, Negan?" I shot back to him, trying to buy more time.

His lips pursed, clearly not expecting that type of response. "I have more than one diversion, Jessa, you only have one. I'd imagine you'd get tired of yours before I'd ever fucking get tired of mine." Of course, point out how many women you keep on hand to keep your ass satisfied, you ass.

I tilted my head, taking a turn in studying him. Negan. A man I would have sworn I knew better than any other human left alive. Did I? Did I really know him? He liked to test people's loyalty, I knew that, but when he offered me Daryl had this been the ultimate test? I'd seen him punish the husbands and boyfriends of his wives for daring to take a slice of the pie that once belonged to them. Would Daryl be inflicted with the same fucking horrors because I took Negan at his word? Was this all some sort of fucking test of my bonds to him? Had he set me up for failure, only to be allowed to inflict what he'd wanted to on Daryl from the moment he brought him here? Jesus, was I just a pawn in his chess game, not the Queen, not really?

Negan's fingers slid up my face, tracing the curve of my jaw, the plumpness of my lip. He kept his fingers light, soft against my face, but I knew, as anyone who'd lived in the Sanctuary for any amount of time, that this hand, those fingers, could strike out and destroy quicker than a blink.

"Who do you belong to, Jessa?" His voice was a whisper, a breath, as soft as his touch. "Who owns you?"

And that's when I knew. He gave me the toy, but he'd never give the toy his prize. He'd kill Daryl before he'd let me go. He'd make me watch. And he'd enjoy the entire fucking show.

"You, Negan." I answered, forcing myself to maintain the eye contact that he expected from me, the strength of my convictions. "I'm yours, of course." I swallowed my fear, of him, of what he would do. And I realized that the plans I'd had, to talk him into letting me go. To let me take Daryl and return to his people and community had been a pipe dream. That in the end, Daryl would have to escape, without me. Because if I disappeared with him, or after him, Alexandria would be burnt to the ground. I'd bear witness to it. As my own punishment would be watching the future I'd been tricked to find hope in was destroyed, along with the man I'd dared let take Negan's place in my heart.

He didn't stay long after, Daryl remained asleep, or pretended to anyway for his entire visit. Negan kissed me with the passion that we'd enjoyed before Daryl Dixon was a thought in our collective reality, and then with a look that reminded me of where my loyalties needed to lie, he left. I stood with my forehead against the door, considering just what the holy hell I could do now.

I'd have to take Daryl on the tour we'd planned last night. Not doing it would cause as much suspicion as doing it. I'd make sure, before we left the rooms, that he understood that he was gathering the information that he'd have to use to escape. Alone. Without me. And I'd have to impress on him why I would never be able to join him. Not when he left, nor later. Because I knew, with as much certainty as I have ever felt about anything, that Negan would burn down the entire world to prove that I belonged to him. And he wouldn't show an ounce of restraint, no quarter, and he'd make me watch him do it. In case I ever considered it again.

"Hey," I heard Daryl's voice, right behind me, making me realize that he'd been awake for most of Negan's visit. "Jessa, turn around."

I did, and I saw him take in my face. A face I was sure showed my pain, and also my shock at what I'd learned during Negan's brief visit. I shook my head. "You were right," I answered, leaning against the door. "He won't let me go." Daryl nodded, not looking at all smug that he'd called it. "But where you were wrong, where we both were, is that not only won't he let me go-" I sighed, and hugged myself. "He'd destroy anyone who tried to take me or hide me from him."

Daryl looked a bit confused. He'd listened to Negan and I, but he couldn't SEE what I'd seen. Couldn't decode the conversation like I could. "You don't know that."

"I do." I said, pushing off from the door and taking the spot on the sofa from before. Daryl took the same seat that Negan had been in, but the differences were almost comedic. "You heard him ask who I belonged to, right?" He nodded, confirming that he'd faked sleep. "Those words mean more to him than you understand, Daryl. It isn't just 'who's the baddest' for him, he means that I belong to him. That he owns me." I could see the anger growing on Daryl's face. "You were my test, Daryl Dixon. And I nearly failed." Hearing me say 'nearly' he started to open his mouth to argue. "You've seen Dwight's face?" A curt nod. "When a wife fails, she doesn't get the punishment, Daryl. If you're my test, and I fail, then YOU bear the punishment." I took his hand, feeling the heat of his warm the coldness of mine. "I won't let that happen. And I can't come with you," another attempt to argue cut off by me. "You aren't willing to let your entire community bear that punishment, are you?" He turned slightly green at the thought, seeing I'm sure his family with the scars that Dwight wore. If only, I thought, that was the punishment they'd get.

"You're givin' up?" He asked, his voice raw, hurt. "Just like that? He snaps his fingers and ya give up?"

I closed my eyes against the pain of him thinking this was simple for me. That I wouldn't fight for him, when letting him go was fighting for him. For his survival. I could feel the burn in my eyes warning me that tears were on their way, but I fought against them. Maybe having him hate me, my choices, would make it easier for him to leave.


End file.
